


Dress You Up (In My Love)

by electricteatime



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Dirk is a little moody because he's trying to hide how close he is to breaking point, Dirk sets out to fix that, Episode: s02e05 Shapes and Colors, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship, Todd is a walking fashion disaster, but the feelings are there, it's not quite the right time yet, something sweet for you all I guess, they're dancing around each other, this is a little relief from that, those leopard print pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricteatime/pseuds/electricteatime
Summary: “So, what? Your solution is a pair of skin tight leopard print pants? How is that better than anything I’ve worn?”Dirk just grins wildly at him, it’s the most like himself he’s looked in days. “Put them on.”***A missing scene from Shapes and Colors. Dirk helping Todd find clothes to wear to Sound of Nothing, because there is no way on this earth you can convince me that Todd Brotzman picked out those leopard print pants for himself.





	Dress You Up (In My Love)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, it's me! Just dropping off a little something that I've been meaning to post, well, since this episode first aired so it's been a good few months now. Despite the fact that I've posted plenty now, this was actually the first fic I started writing for the fandom so I figured it was about time I got round to sharing it. A missing scene from Shapes and Colors where Dirk helps Todd pick out his clothes, because that look was not cultivated by Todd. 
> 
> Dirk dressed him, and you can fight me on that. 
> 
> (The title is a Madonna lyric and you can fight me on that too.)

In hindsight Todd probably should have seen it coming. He hadn’t seen the disaster that must have been Dirk going through all those old vintage clothes, but the detective had taken his sweet time sorting out exactly what he was going to wear and when he’d appeared a good hour later he had, to be fair to him, looked rather good. Not that Todd noticed such things.

Dirk somehow always managed to look good, but Todd was a creature of habit. He prioritised comfort over style, kept to his favourite items in a five t-shirt rotation and rarely washed his jeans. Despite being over the age of thirty he’d never quite shaken the living habits of a college student and that was good enough for him. It didn’t seem to be good enough for Dirk though, who, shortly after Todd agreed to go to the music festival as long as he wasn’t dressed in uniform, had eyed him up and down with a good deal of criticism and sighed. When he’d turned on his heel to walk out of the room and beckoned him along with a “come on then,” that sounded equal parts put out and excited he’d followed without thought.

That had been his first mistake he thinks, eyeing the second pair of leather pants Dirk had thrown his way since they’d started raiding the room. These ones at least were black, the last ones having been an alarming shade of purple that Todd had set aside as soon as he’d seen them. This pair were going to go a similar way.

“I’m not wearing leather pants, Dirk,” he tells him flatly, hoping the way he throws them onto a nearby chair is emphatic enough to get the message across. Dirk eyes them sadly for a moment.

“They’d suit you! I thought the whole point was making you look good?” as if Dirk hadn’t been the one to instigate playing dress up in the first place.

“I can look good without drowning myself in a bucket of sweat,” because he had worn them before, on a singular occasion that had been memorable for all the wrong reasons. “I don’t see why I can’t just dress myself. It would be much quicker,” Dirk throws him a _look_ that can only be described as haughty.

“Well yes, I suppose it would be quicker, but these things take time Todd. The only clothes we have are vintage retro music festival outfits, and unless you’ve suddenly become an expert in how to put an outfit together which, given what you were wearing when I found you I _highly_ doubt, if you want to look good you’re going to have to let me dress you.” He says all this while standing knee deep in what looks like a pile of corduroy jackets.

Todd can’t do anything but try not to be too offended, because like most things when it comes down to the line Dirk is right, he’d have no idea where to even start with these clothes. He tries to resign himself to his fate in a way that’s not obvious enough for Dirk to pick up on, if he senses weakness god only knows what he’ll manage to get him into.

“A- _ha_ ,” is a worrying sound given their current situation, but when Dirk turns back to him he’s holding up a shirt that… isn’t that bad. Nothing Todd would ever pick up for himself but given the shirts he’s already tried to get him into have been in order; mustard yellow, pink and blue striped, patterned with what looked like very realistic drawings of fish and one he’s hoping Dirk wasn’t serious about that was covered in sequins and had pom-poms on the collar, the relative plainness of the one Dirk hands over to him is a stark relief. It’s mostly white and the pattern is inoffensive, he thinks this is possibly as good as it’s going to get for him right now.

“It looks small,” is the only thing he’s currently doubtful about, and voicing that aloud makes Dirk roll his eyes.

“ _Fitted_ ,” he corrects. “Something you really should consider more often. Put it on, it’ll fit you,” he looks particularly hopeful in a way Todd can only attribute to the fact that he hadn’t thrown this one away on sight.

“Alright, fine,” he concedes, Todd knows when to pick his battles and it won’t get much better than this. Dirk smiles but doesn’t look away, “do you mind?”

“I’ve seen you change before,” he protests, but one look at Todd’s face has him turning away, muttering to himself as he dives back into an ungodly pile of various ugly fabrics. Todd is quick about changing out of the uniform shirt, it hadn’t really been that comfortable anyway, and strips off the undershirt for good measure when it doesn’t look like it will fit under the one Dirk has just handed to him.

He is admittedly surprised when it does fit him, and it fits well. Almost _too_ well for him to be entirely comfortable in it but it gives him a little more confidence in Dirk’s ability to dress him, provided he doesn’t think about how weird it is that Dirk has managed to pick out his size twice now without asking.

Dirk looks over at him as he’s smoothing it down and gives him a considerate look before nodding his approval, “see? We can work with that!” It’s the trademark cheery optimism that gives Todd pause, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

His suspicion is proved well deserved.

“What the hell are they?!” _They_ appear to be a pair of jeans that are patterned with what is undeniably patched leopard print and probably belonged to some kind of late eighties glam rock fan who would likely have had to have help to get into them. Tight fitting was generous to say the least, and Todd supposes he should be glad they aren’t furry to match. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely _yes_ ,” Dirk counters, holding the pants out to him with a grin that is too genuine for him to be anything other than absolutely serious.

“You can’t be… Am I even going to be able to walk in those?” he doubts it, that fabric doesn’t look like it has much stretch.

“Of course you are, I need you mobile for detecting. Besides, they’re a perfect match!” Todd looks down at the shirt he’s wearing, failing to see how they match in _any_ way. Not that he knows anything about matching his clothes, everything goes with black has always been his motto, and it’s always served him well.

“Dirk…” his protest is cut off when Dirk rolls his eyes and shoves them into his hands.

“You asked for my help, so put them on,” his tone leaves little room for argument.

“Asked for… I didn’t _ask_ for your help! You insisted! You just decided we should... play dress-up!”

“Fine, _you_ didn’t ask me, but your tragic dress sense did. What kind of a friend would I be if I let you put yourself through that again? Especially when we’re going out to a festival?”

“So, what? Your solution is a pair of skin tight leopard print pants? How is that better than anything I’ve worn?”

Dirk just grins wildly at him, it’s the most like himself he’s looked in days. “Put them on.”

Todd, although he will never admit it, is fast running out of ways to make Dirk smile since they’d gotten him back. So much so that merely the suggestion that him putting on a pair of frankly ridiculous jeans will make Dirk even momentarily happy is enough to have him caving.  


It takes a fair bit of jumping for him to get them on, but once he finally buttons them up he can admit that even though they cling to him they’re not as tight as he’d thought they might be. He’s definitely worn tighter in the past back when it was all the rage, and a little bit past when it was acceptably fashionable too. There’s only one thing though, and it’s something he’d usually be frustrated by but right now it might be his ticket out of actually wearing leopard print outside of this room so he pounces on it with both hands.

“They’re too long for me,” he was used to the way pants tended to bunch around his ankles and had for the most part accepted it, but he’s not sure that’s something Dirk will consider appropriate. Dirk had spent the time Todd had taken to get into them gathering what looked like a truly impressive amount of accessories, and was now wading out of the pile of clothes carrying them in his arms like some kind of hunting trophy.

“Roll them up then, it’s not like it’s not in right now,” he makes it sound like this is common knowledge, and Todd can’t even process the idea that Dirk knows what’s ‘in right now’ but doesn’t have the first clue how to make an omelette. He also can’t process why rolling up your jeans would be fashionable but he does it anyway, with an impressive amount of flexibility for someone as unfit as he is. They’re no longer bunched, but rolled up in a manner that best resembles a child about to go paddling at the beach; Dirk makes a vaguely distressed sound when he sees what he’s done.

“Not like _that_! Honestly, it’s like you’ve not even looked in a shop window recently,” he sets down a pile of belts and drops down to his knees in front of Todd. Todd, whose eyes go wide the moment he registers this and somehow, miraculously, manages not to make a sound.

Dirk is incredibly focussed on unrolling his shoddy attempts at fixing the situation and folding them back up neatly, but all Todd can really think about is the one (singular, very drunken) time he’d pictured Dirk on his knees like this before. The image had been shaken away not long after its appearance at the time, unbidden and confusing, but now? Now he’s caught staring at what could arguably be the most inappropriate time to be thinking anything of the sort. Because they’re on a case, of course. Official business. Nothing to do with how tight his pants already are. Dirk’s fingers keep brushing against his ankle and it shouldn’t even be noticeable but every time he makes contact Todd has to force himself to breathe normally.

Thankfully the moment doesn’t last too long and Todd gets a chance to clear his throat and look away before Dirk stands back up to check his handiwork.

“There, much better,” Dirk hums to himself, clearly pleased as he picks up a pair of boots and hands them to him. Todd is too busy trying to right himself from a sudden onslaught of unexpected imagery to even argue. Not that he would have, he decides once he’s gotten them on. The boots are the most sensible thing he’s been handed all night.

“Are we done?” he hopes he doesn’t sound as shaken to Dirk as he does to himself, wonders if he only gets away with it because the detective is busy untangling a ball of belts.

“Not quite, just a few more things. I think you’ll be more familiar with this,” he’s managed to free one, black and studded, the kind Todd had owned multiples of when the Mexican Funeral had been at its height. He still owned one or two.

“I’m not sure they need a belt,” it’s not really an argument, he’s already slipping it on and to be honest the familiarity of the item does help bring him a little closer to being at peace with the outfit.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in months.” It feels like it comes so left of field Todd is left stunned by it, looking up at Dirk from where he’s buckling the belt up to be met with a wistful smile and a look that’s nothing short of adoring as he appraises the outfit. Or Todd. He’s not entirely sure. It’s all he can do to offer a small smile back, hopeful in its own way. There’s an ease to Dirk’s shoulders that hasn’t been there in a while.

“This is the most amount of patterns I’ve ever worn in one go,” he admits, something which manages to pull Dirk’s smile up into his eyes. Todd’s heart skips at the sight of it.

“Just _one_ more thing!” It’s bright and chirpy and the warmth in Todd’s chest threatens to turn into dread, he can’t imagine what Dirk could possibly want to add to the outfit that it doesn’t already have.

The answer turns out to be ridiculous.

“Dirk. I’m going to a music festival, not a wedding reception,” not that he thinks the bright blue of the bowtie dangling from Dirk’s fingers would be very welcome at a formal event anyway. “I’m _not_ wearing a bowtie.”

“But-”

“ _No_.”

Dirk’s face falls, and Todd holds out for all of two seconds before cursing the lasting effects of being an older brother to a sister who had perfected the art of destroying his resolve just by looking sad.

“You can pick something else. _One_ thing,” Todd holds up his finger to indicate just how much one means. Dirk perks up a little, and okay maybe it does make Todd feel better to have made that happen, even if he may well regret it in a minute. “It has to be black,” it was his comfort zone after all.

“I know _just_ the thing.”

It takes him a good minute of rummaging before he’s tossing over what Todd identifies as “…suspenders?” with a great deal of scepticism.

“Just try them! If you don’t like them, you can take them off but I really do think they’ll pull the whole thing together. Very hipster,” he nods his head in a serious, knowing way.

Todd has never possessed any desire to look remotely like a hipster, but from what Tina had described it’s a look that would fit right in at Sound of Nothing. It’s with that in mind that he clips them into place with only a minimal amount of struggle and turns back to Dirk with his arms held out for inspection. “Well?”

Dirk’s smile lights up his whole face, pressing his hands together like he might start clapping but managing to restrain himself from doing so. He does bounce on his toes a little though, clearly excited in a way that shows in his voice.

“You really ought to see for yourself. But Todd, can I just say, it’s _so_ nice to see you dressed properly even if I do say so myself,” it’s the kind of backhanded, roundabout compliment he’s used to hearing from Dirk and he takes it in his stride. Dirk wrapping a hand around his wrist is a little more surprising, but Todd allows himself to be pulled along over to the mirror, Dirk hanging over his shoulders with an excitable, “what do you think?”

Dirk has dressed him like he’s fully expecting him to find someone who wants to _un _dress him, and not because the clothes are hideous in their own right. Individually they’re pretty terrible, and together they shouldn’t work at all but somehow they do and Todd has no idea how Dirk has managed to pull that off. The clothes fit him well, a little too well considering they were pulled from a random assortment of lost property, not too small but fitting to his body in a way none of his clothes have in a very long time. It’s almost enough to make him look twice at himself and wonder why he doesn’t make more of an effort to buy clothes that do more than just cover him up. Dirk has dressed him to show him off, that much is obvious, and he’s not entirely sure what to do with that information as he stares at himself in the mirror.__

____

____

“It’s uh, good. Yeah. Good job with the…” he really shouldn’t be this taken with seeing his own reflection, but he thinks this is the best he’s looked in _years_ , which is even more stupefying when he considers the fact that he’s wearing leopard print and suspenders. Past Todd would cry at the sight. Present Todd might cry too, but for very different reasons.

He’s not quite sure how Dirk has managed to see a version of him he’s never seen in himself, Dirk who is watching him with a soft, appreciative expression as he figures out what to say. It’s almost like he’s unintentionally been given a gift he could never have expected.

“You uh, did a much better job than I would have done,” is what he settles on, pulling at the elastic in a nervous move. Dirk pries his fingers away and smooths the suspenders down with a pleased little hum.

“ _Much_ better,” he agrees. It’s teasing though, rather than scathing and Todd’s mouth quirks up into a smile when he turns to face him properly.

“Thanks, I guess. I mean… not for the leopard print but, you know,” he shrugs one shoulder, unsure how to finish but knowing Dirk will get it anyway. He always does.

“I think it’s rather fetching,” he sniffs. “But you’re welcome. It’s one of my many varied and colourful talents. Maybe if the detective agency falls through I’ll become a stylist instead.”

“Nah,” Todd nudges him, pleased to see him looking a little happier. “You’d get bored. Besides, then I’d be out of a job and it would suck _twice_ as much.” Dirk smiles, soft as he looks him over again and Todd tries not to fidget too much under the attention. He’s been meaning to say something for a while now, always unsure of the timing but now seems as good as any while they have a moment alone.

“Hey,” he keeps his voice gentle, and when Dirk looks up at him he swallows, wanting to reach out but unsure if it would be welcome. “You… you’d tell me, right? If something was wrong? Or Farah, or anyone really I just… don’t think you have to stick it out on your own.” He’s bad at this, at the emotional stuff, but it feels important to say because he knows something is wrong, they all do, and Dirk for all his ability to talk the ear off anyone willing to listen doesn’t seem to want to say anything about whatever it is that’s going on. Todd doesn’t want to push him, the last thing he wants is to make him feel like he _has_ to say anything, but he doesn’t want him to feel like he _can’t_. It’s a difficult line to walk with Dirk being as fragile as he is right now.

“I…” the look on Dirk’s face is something he can’t work out, somewhere between vulnerable and defensive, disbelieving in a way that makes his lungs feel tight. “I know I don’t,” it’s not a promise that he’ll say anything but it’s a start. It’s enough that Todd just nods his agreement because it’s the best he’s going to get right now. 

“Come on. Farah’s going to laugh at me and I’d rather get it done sooner than later,” somehow he can’t see her ever letting him forget he let Dirk wrangle him into skintight leopard print pants. He’s just going to have to live with it.

“Why would she laugh? You look... cool,” even he seems unsure if that’s the right word but it’s enough to make Todd roll his eyes.

“We have very different definitions of ‘cool’,” he snorts.

“Well, _obviously_. But you have to admit, you look good.” Todd casts another look at himself in the mirror and shakes his head. 

“Yeah, okay. It looks good,” he wants to sound begrudging but even now it’s enough to surprise him. Dirk really does seem to know what he’s doing, and Todd wonders if he’ll ever stop being surprising.

“Good,” Dirk nudges him towards the door like he thinks Todd isn’t going to make it on his own. In any other situation he might be right. “In that case, it’s _showtime_.”

Dirk isn’t back to his usual self yet, Todd doesn’t know how long that will take, but his shoulders are looser and there’s a smile on his face and that at least is a start. It’s enough to make the leopard print worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> So! Let me know what you think! I like getting words in return for these words but screaming will also suffice. I hope you like it, I'd ask you to be nice but I already know you're a lovely lot.
> 
> You can catch me at kieren-fucking-walker on tumblr if you want to yell at me/talk to me about Dirk Gently/generally freak out over these two idiots. 
> 
> Hopefully I'll see you around!


End file.
